


Life Goes On

by faithtastic



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-10
Updated: 2010-10-10
Packaged: 2017-10-12 13:44:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/125497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faithtastic/pseuds/faithtastic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Buffy and Tara are drawn together during an AU Season 6.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life Goes On

When Willow and Tara moved in, they moved Mom's things into the attic. For Buffy, this is cathartic and it seems fitting and right to do it now: sorting through belongings, separating clothing and personal things into piles of what to keep and what to give away. Dawn is less ruthless than Buffy is, hoarding items defensively – as if Dawn would ever make use of Mom's collection of long, ethnic necklaces and costume jewellery. Still, Buffy struggles. Every single thing is a tangible reminder, something that was touched or used or imbued with memories in some way. It's so difficult to convince herself that it's just unnecessary clutter.

The spring clean does throw up some surprises though.

It's Tara who finds the record player in the attic, one of those bizarre relics of the '60s with walnut finish like a car dashboard and wrapped in a sheet of bubble wrap. Kitsch beyond words. There's a box of vinyl records nearby, slightly dog-eared copies of The Eagles, Fleetwood Mac, The Grateful Dead and other 'classic rock' albums that Buffy guesses belonged to her father in his youth, though she finds it hard to reconcile the image of a long-haired slacker with the man she sees maybe twice a year.

There are older albums from the 1940s and 50s – must be Grandma's - their cardboard sleeves covered in a thin layer of dust and some cobwebs. On the front covers are swarthy people Buffy's never heard of with toothy smiles and slicked back hair.

The three of them – Buffy, Dawn and Tara - carry the record player downstairs and set it up in the living room. They bring the box of records too and Dawn selects one to test the player. As she sets the needle on the groove, immediately the scratchy but joyous sound of a big band starts up, a man with a velvety voice crooning alongside.

The music soon proves infectious. Dawn, laughing, suddenly grabs Tara by both hands and they begin swinging each other around the floor under Buffy's amused gaze. It almost feels alien to her, watching people having fun and feeling part of it even if she's on the periphery. Lately there hasn't been much to smile about for anyone in this room.

"Dawnie I have to stop, I'm getting dizzy," Tara says breathlessly, eyes streaming with tears of laughter, after a few minutes of being whirled around with her feet barely touching the ground. But Dawn doesn't let go until they both fall to the floor in a heap of giggles and light-headedness.

Buffy helps Tara to her feet. Once upright she holds onto Buffy still, swaying slightly, that lopsided smile on her lips and face flushed. She looks radiant, the afternoon sun lighting her hair, making the golden strands loosened from her ponytail appear to glow. As Buffy realises that she's staring, Tara's expression shifts. A tiny furrow forms on her brow as she stares back at Buffy.

They both become aware of Dawn, still laughing although the record has stopped. Tara lifts her hand from Buffy's and they both focus on something safer than each other.

***

  
Tara looks up from her cross-legged position on the floor. Lost in meditative thought, she hadn't noticed Buffy appear just inside the room. Ever since Buffy's return, she's been acting like a trespasser in her own home and Tara feels guilty about having assumed the role of provider and guardian in Buffy's place.

"Hey," Buffy says softly in greeting.

"Hey." Tara glances around herself, at the yoga mat she's sitting on, the crystals scattered in front of her. "Sorry. Am I in your way?"

A startled look passes over Buffy's face, as if the thought has never occurred to her. Whether it's just politeness or the truth, Tara is unable to tell. "No." She crosses her arms, shifts her feet. "I was just – you looked so peaceful. I didn't mean to disturb you."

Tara reaches for the crystals, scooping the stones into her hands. "I'll tidy up."

"No. Please." Buffy makes an attempt at a smile. "What are those anyway?"

"Healing crystals." Tara flushes under scrutiny, self consciously aware of the tremulous note in her own voice. "I - I learned this technique called pranic breathing and I use the crystals to help me focus."

Buffy takes a few steps closer and perches on the arm of the couch. "So it's like meditation or something?"

"Sort of, yes. It's all supposed to restore and balance your chakra."

"Your whaty?"

"Chakra."

Blonde eyebrows knit together in confusion. Buffy looks so cute when she's puzzled and Tara's unable to prevent a grin forming. "Like the weapon Xena had?"

At that, Tara giggles. "No. It's like your life force." She pauses, glancing shyly at the other girl. "You know, if you want, I could teach you. It really helps me sleep."

"Sure. I'd like that."

Frequent bouts of insomnia are just one of the things Buffy's had to contend with since she was brought back and the dark circles under her eyes testify to that. Tara wonders how someone so physically strong can appear so brittle. Buffy's seen and done too much and it won't ever end until another girl takes her place. Maybe she's being naïve but Tara doesn't like to entertain that horrifyingly inevitable truth. Not least because it's happened not once but twice and even the luckiest people run out of second chances.

"I wanted to thank you," Buffy says, head bowed as she examines her fingernails. Those hands clawed their way out the earth and when Tara sees them on a mug or holding a spoon or anything so trivial and commonplace, she feels a certain amount of dread. "For looking after Dawn and everyone while I was..."

"You don't have to. It was nothing."

"It wasn't nothing. From what I've heard, everyone went to pieces. Except you. You kept it all together and I'm grateful."

"I just did laundry and cooked and it was -- "

"Accept the compliment, Tara."

Lost for anything else to say, she falls graciously silent under Buffy's gaze.

***

When the break up happens and Tara moves out, suddenly the house seems much too large, devoid as it is of Tara's cooking and the constant rotation of female singer-songwriters on the stereo. Her absence is perceptible. Even the laundry basket seems lacking without Tara's odd collection of terminally unfashionable skirts and shirts.

It's mostly out of a sense of loyalty to Willow that Buffy excuses herself when Dawn invites her along to the regular coffee dates and trips to the movies with Tara.

Mostly.

It's not that she envies the ease that her sister and Tara have in each others company, the confidences and private jokes that they share, that Tara is all Dawn talks about incessantly these days.

It's not that lately there's been this disturbing and irrational sibling rivalry at work in vying for Tara's attention. A competition Buffy knows she's losing thanks to the demands of patrolling, Spike, work, and trying to ensure that Willow doesn't have a relapse.

And it doesn't take a genius to recognise the signs because Dawn isn't exactly adept at hiding her feelings.

She knows she's probably the least qualified person to dispense advice but she doesn't want Dawn to get hurt. So she invites Tara over to the house for coffee one afternoon while Willow is away on a rare visit to her parents.

Tara seems nervous when she arrives and Buffy realises she should've suggested neutral territory. They sit at the breakfast bar and focus on their mugs, peering into the steaming liquid rather than looking at each other.

It's Tara who speaks first, her voice unsteady. "I-is something wrong? I feel like I've been summoned to the Principal's office."

"Am I that intimidating?" Buffy asks with a frown.

Tara nods, a faint smile playing around her lips. "Sometimes. I wouldn't want to get on the wrong side of you."

"That's kind of why I asked you here," Buffy says and catches the look of sudden alarm on Tara's normally placid features. "It's about Dawn, actually."

"Dawn?"

Buffy pauses, taking a moment to think about how to phrase this. She exhales softly. "I think Dawn has a crush on you. In fact, I'm pretty sure of it."

Watching the flit of emotions across Tara's face, Buffy finds herself fascinated with small details: the delicate eyelashes, the pale, flawless skin, the gentle slope of nose and fullness of Tara's lower lip. "You really think?" Tara says hesitantly, forehead scrunching. "I thought I was always really careful. I never thought she would misconstrue..."

"She goes all dreamy eyed when she mentions your name." It's embarrassing even for Buffy to admit that. "I don't think that's open to misinterpretation."

"Oh," Tara says. She glances up at Buffy through her lashes, eyebrows arched. "You know that it's totally unreciprocated, right?"

Even though it's ridiculous to entertain the idea that Dawn's crush might be anything other than one-sided, Buffy's glad to hear Tara's outright dismissal of the idea. "Sure," she shrugs, holding Tara's stare.

"Because I would never do that," Tara says, voice low but intent.

***

  
On a wet Thursday night they arrange to meet at the coffeeshop on campus. When Buffy arrives, shaking droplets of rain off her umbrella, her cheeks are slightly pink from the bracing wind outside. Wrapped in her wool coat and scarf, Tara has this urge to hug Buffy because she just looks so cosy and appealing.

As she walks up to the table, Buffy gives a cute little wave and Tara smiles widely.

Buffy sits in the chair opposite Tara and removes her gloves, laying them on the table. For someone so capable, her hands are surprisingly small and dainty. It's not the first time Tara's noticed this - not that she's made a habit of staring at Buffy's hands. Well, not until recently.

"So, judging by the way Dawn's been slamming doors, railing against the world and generally being bratty, I guess you had that talk with her?"

Tara groans and briefly covers her eyes. "It was horrible. I felt like such a brute."

They swap sympathetic glances then the waitress comes over to take their order: two lattes and blueberry muffins. The way Tara's feeling right now, comfort food is definitely called for.

After the waitress leaves, Buffy seems elsewhere. "Are you okay?" Tara asks, a note of concern in her voice.

Green eyes refocus, dispelling whatever thoughts are circling around Buffy's head. "Yeah. Just... people stuff."

"Spike?"

She senses Buffy recoil and wishes she hadn't asked. Tara's always tried not to be judgemental and she thinks she sort of understands why two people would use each other like that but it still seems unhealthy and she can't help wishing for better for Buffy.

A huff of breath escapes Buffy's lips. "Him. Everyone. There's a lot happening right now." Understatement of the century. Her gaze drops to her hands flat on the table. "I wish I could put a little distance between myself and everything."

Biting her lip, Tara wills her voice to be resolute. "Is that what this is?" Buffy's eyes now flick up to her face and Tara blunders on, knowing it's too late to take her question back. "Because I'm getting all these mixed signals and it's pretty confusing."

As they sit in silence, the waitress comes back with their coffees and muffins. Tara thanks her self-consciously and busies herself with adding two lumps of sugar to her cup and stirring the coffee vigorously. Buffy makes no move to do the same.

"I don't know," Buffy says finally, her eyes blinking. "It's complicated."

Tara's hand pauses, still grasping the spoon. She steels herself. "Okay, honestly? I'm attracted to you." She doesn't know where this strength is coming from but she's rolling with it. "I have been for a while. But I'm beyond the unrequited fixation with straight girls phase so I need to know if I'm wasting my time here. Being just friends with someone is a lot easier when you know where you stand."

She watches Buffy considering this admission, idly moving the muffin around on its plate. When Buffy replies, her voice is so quiet that Tara struggles to hear.

"I don't think you're wasting your time."

***

  
They agreed to take things slowly but when they find themselves kissing goodnight against the wall outside Tara's dorm room, it seems sensible to put a stop to this. Tara's lips are so warm and soft that one kiss turns into another and Buffy almost growls with frustration when Tara gently pushes her back.

"You wanna take this inside?" she asks, brushing stray blonde hairs off Buffy's cheek, deliberately letting her thumb graze Buffy's lower lip.

Buffy merely nods, a little dazed by this turn of events.

Once past the door, Tara fumbles for the light switch. The bed's unmade and Miss Kitty Fantastico is curled up on the pillow. The cat lifts her head and mewls in protest at the disturbance and sudden flood of light.

Buffy lets out a shaky breath as she surveys the room. Tara looks apologetic about the mess. "I wasn't expecting any visitors," she says with a slight grin.

They watch each other cautiously for a moment then Tara removes her long leather coat. Buffy notices Tara's shirt ride up as she stretches to hang the coat up on a hook. The glimpse of her milky pale skin and her small rounded belly makes Buffy's pulse jump. She's almost shocked by how unexpectedly erotic that sight is. It's enough to propel her forward until she's standing right in front of Tara, close enough to hear her swallow nervously.

Heart hammering in her chest, Buffy initiates another kiss. She puts her arms around Tara, tugging her closer, feeling Tara's shaking fingers flitting from her cheeks to her neck, finally sinking into her hair. They're both trembling and it's like a powerful electric current passing between them.

When Tara opens her mouth to Buffy's tongue they're immersed in hot breath and the thick taste of coffee, and beneath that a sweetness that can't be placed. Then Tara's tongue entangles with hers and Buffy's in that happy place that makes her toes curl inside her shoes.

It's some time later when Tara steps back, still in the circle of Buffy's arms. Her eyes are disconcertingly near and very blue in such proximity.

"Maybe you should go before we get too... um, y'know." She's all breathless and sexy and Buffy doesn't think she could possibly stop kissing her.

"Incoherent? I think we're way past that already," Buffy says, watching the flush rise up Tara's neck with keen interest.

Tara leans in and kisses her all too fleetingly. "I don't want you to regret anything. Spur of the moment feelings can be very strong but you might change your mind." With gentle fingers, Tara strokes Buffy's temple, making the skin tingle with every touch. "Besides, I think you need to straighten things out with Spike before we take this any further."

Employing as much restraint as she can muster, Buffy concedes. "Alright, I'll go but consider this unfinished business."

"Okay," Tara nods, practically pushing Buffy towards the door.

***

  
Sunday morning and Tara wakens slowly to the lightest of touches tracing every ridge and notch of her spine. She stretches and arches her back cat-like, a small murmur of contentment escaping her mouth. Soon fingertips are replaced with warm lips and Tara shifts smiling, rolling over to face Buffy.

With her hair dishevelled and the sheets rumpled around her, Buffy looks gorgeous and pleasant ripples of memories come to Tara of the night before, of Buffy slipping between the sheets, the scent of dust and moonlight clinging to her, strong hands urgent on heated skin.

"Morning," Tara says and her smile fades when she sees the glassiness of Buffy's eyes.

"Buffy?" she says, a little knot of fear making the words catch in her throat. "What's wrong?"

The sunlight makes Buffy's skin glow orange and as she sits up the sheets pool around her waist. She makes no effort to cover her breasts and Tara feels an involuntary jolt of arousal between her thighs.

"Buffy?" Tara tries again gently, as if dealing with a frightened child. "Sweetie, talk to me."

She watches Buffy rub her forehead with the heel of her palm, moving in small stiff circles. She doesn't spare a glance at Tara as she speaks, staring straight ahead at the poster on the wall of Kate Bush giving a 'come hither' look from the cover of the Hounds Of Love album. "I don't think I can do this."

Eyes closed, Tara exhales slowly. The desire of moments earlier drains rapidly, replaced by something cold and hollow. She struggles against it but she has to ask. "You're still fucking him, aren't you?"

Buffy flinches like a prude, which is absurd given the way she was last night. "I'm sorry."

Tara sits up too, side by side with the other girl. They don't speak for what seems like a few minutes. At the foot of the bed, Miss Kitty pokes her head out from underneath the covers and fixes them both with a look of displeasure.

"Willow's getting better. You should talk to her."

"You mean give her another chance?" Tara rubs at dry eyelids. "Are you saying that because you care or because you feel guilty?" That sting forces Buffy to meet Tara's gaze. It is guilt. It rolls off her in waves and Tara takes little comfort in it.

"Don't you? I mean, you still love her."

"Of course and I always will but that doesn't preclude me from having relationships with other people. We broke up. Why should I feel guilty for moving on?"

"Because the only thing that's keeping her going is the thought that you'll take her back."

"No, that isn't fair Buffy. I warned her. I asked her to stop."

"It was an addiction. She couldn't stop."

For a moment Tara wonders who exactly they're talking about. Perhaps Buffy realises this too because she looks away.

"So that's it," Tara says in a resigned tone, "you want me to go back to Willow?"

Back hunched, arms hugging her legs, Buffy seems to be trying to make herself as small as possible. She lays her cheek against her knees, gaze indecipherable as she looks at Tara. "No, but I think you should."

  
***

  
The following week Tara asks Willow out for coffee and, when Buffy sees her, they pretend to be friends, a little distant like they used to be. Buffy reminds herself that what she did is for the best for everyone concerned and she tries not to think about Tara's hair spilling out across the pillows in her bed, the way that Tara laughs when she's being tickled, the taste of her lips.

Yes, this is for the best.


End file.
